Yoga for Whom?

Kaibigan,

I went to a reasonably-priced yoga place. It's website says that it was established as an alternative to to the expensive and snooty yoga culture of New York. At least, that's their press release. The yoga is by donation. But I have a system for receiving no less than $10 per class. The rates become even less if one takes the bulk classes of a month to a year.

When I got there, the hot yoga advertised was actually Bikram, a system of yoga that is the current rage where one does a series of asanas in a room heated to about two degrees hotter than the normal body temperature. I didn't bring my trunks and towel, only the mat lent by my sister Dawn. The girl at the counter, who it would turn out was also going to handle the class, was helpful enough. She lent me the trunks, gave me a towel. And the manager promptly rang me $12, including the class ($10+$2towel=$12). Seeing my small bottle of water, he suggested I get a bigger bottle for an extra $2. I declined because my yoga teacher at home reminded us to drink water hours before the class--not during class. The manager insisted I pay up front and not after class (as would have been more convenient because by then I had all my stuff, including my wallter, in the locker). And more pressing, the class was about to begin. That's New York for you. Something I want to imbibe, in a way is how their attitude towards business, always looking out for the bottom dollar sign. The facilities in this center are much better. There is no smelly socks, sweaty feet smell like that place on 8th Avenue. And the heaters can really get hot. There were plenty of NYU student types both men and women and the hall was nearly full. I noticed that in the two yoga classes I went to here, the teacher will not correct postures as much as they would at home. They don't call attention to bad posture. I don't think they even remember the names of the students. I think it's too much of an expectation with the constant change of students. I really don't mind that since in effect, it encourages a more personal focus for the practitioner. One becomes more focused on one's body. The awareness to improve on the pose is more personal, instead of showing off to a teacher to get the encouragement.

But what I did mind was that the rest of the class seem to lack discipline. A lot of the people fidgeted in between the poses. The black guy at my side kept drinking water. The girl to my front kept doing extraneous movements-- brushing sweat out of her eyes, moving her legs in places that required stillness. One can respond with the distraction with an extra dose of concentration. Nonetheless, I felt that the teacher should have brought the matter to the attention of the class. No moving between poses.

Before the class, my surrounding classmates sensed that it was my first time to join them. I smiled at the black guy beside me but he simply ignored me. The others around were busy arranging their mats.

When we reached the balancing series (one leg up, the other straight like a resting heron), the black guy was huffing. He couldn't stay in the arrow pose. By the time we got to triangle, 1/4 of the class--including the black guy was puffing. By triangle pose, the dividing line had been drawn. A few of the class lay down (not sit, but lay down on the floor. How odd!) The black guy stopped, braced himself against the wall and began gulping water. Me? I was gloriously in triangle pose with three inhales to spare. And I credit that for staying still, breathing and not drinking water in class. And I'm merely saying that to affirm the good practice habits I learned at home.

The class ended I passed through the counter for the exit. N, the fat manager who probably never did a breathing exercise in his life was counting the daily take. He was happy. He was so happy, in fact, that he told me to get any drink from the ref "on the house". And he was tireless at telling people who came by the counter that they were offering discounts to their monthly unlimited classes in a friendly but definitely business-like kind of way. Meanwhile, the pile of NYU types was thickening at the entrance as the next class was about to begin. All seemed eager to experience stretching inside a heated room no matter the quality of their poses and the ability of the guru to lead.

Situating the Center

Kaibigan,

In visits past, this city was a daunting place of strange subway connections. My first, of a set, of realizations was that going to the opposite track did not necessarily mean returning to where one has been. Include in the list my awe at the nature of the supermarket here. I walk in any which one and the variety of goods available is astounding. But choice is illusion if one doesn't really have the means. This city--any rich city-- is cruel that way to those who only have a pocketful of coins. There are free things to try. But like the free tastings in a grocery, the sample does not satisfy. It merely wakes a slumbering curiosity and nags at the desire to acquire. In this sense, I feel that I'm a little boy in a candy store with only a dollar to spend.

They say that healthy deprivation brings out the creativity in us. No wonder, this city has the most number of artists per square inch. There must be some outlet for all these unresolved cravings. For every frustration borne of desire, there is an equal invention of a source of pleasure.

Kaibigan,

If you were given a chance to live in the center of all cities for six months, on a budget, without an income, with the sole purpose of "absorbing" and "creating", would you do it? I have been blessed to live a dream.

It is a sabbatical. A time to rest. To breathe anew. To breath new. A beginning of sorts.

This city is in early Spring.

The picture is a view from my window. After Easter, I've noticed more light in the sky when I wake up at 6 a.m. Although it is still cold, there is less imperative to use the heater. Yesterday, there was sun and I took a bike ride with Bill through parts of the big park. Amidst the population and the high rise buildings, the city is known for this valley of green that has one side of it running along a river. Underneath the city is a system of railways that ferry a thousand commuters everyday to offices, to art, to community, secret trysts. It cannot be any other city. It can only be this city.

My camera in hand, my laptop over my shoulder. It will be six months on a safari. The landscape, the food, the new tribes, strange rituals, the wildlife. Am I ready for it?

Hell, yeah! I've been preparing for it my whole life.

Fruits and Fish

I like fish and fruits specially when drawn by Borlongan, Manansala and Ang Kiukok. I can stare at them for hours without feeling hungry, unlike when I watch the Food Channel.

Manansala's fish, for example are so diaphonous, I could drape them on to a young barrio lass's bodice. While Borlongan's fish don't have eyes at all. Blind, they don't know the end of their journey, not unlike the eyes of the fishermfolk (not seen here) carrying them from the dank sea. For dessert, we could have Ang Kiukok's pointy watermelons. But the black seeds embedded on the orange-brown flesh of the fruit are too precious to ruin, if eaten.

Let me complete this scene by telling you how delicately I'm sipping a glass of Chianti and nibbling on fava beans slightly sauteed in butter.

Salut!

NOT DELICADEZA

Kaibigan,

NOT DELICADEZA

All this talk about people hot having delicadeza has gotten me into remembering my freshman year in law school when our teacher asked whether we could sue based on a person not having any such sense.

The concept of delicadeza presupposes that a society is guided by a generally accepted moral compass that points to acceptable and unacceptable behavior. The sense of delicadeza requires us to play fair and be honest in our dealings with others specially in matters or circumstances not strictly covered by law or formal rules. In answer to the question, we concluded that not having delicadeza can not be the sole basis for a civil or criminal complaint. Nonetheless, being oblivious of exercising delicadeza may have some other socially-related consequences, such as being ridiculed in public.

The practice of delicadeza is admired since it is a voluntary and conscience-driven act that moves a person to act correctly or appropriately even if it is contrary to one’s personal interest. It is, most of all, an act of spiritual honesty.

Test your delicadeza IQ with the following hypothetical circumstances:

1. In a democratic framework that strongly encourages accountability by way of checks and balances, should one practice delicadeza when one is in a position to gain advantage over others by abusing and misusing power and authority?

__Agree __No Way

2. Are we enjoined by delicadeza not to rig the results of any game with rules, whether it is a sports contest, a competition for an award or an election (specially when we are in a position to do so)?

__Agree __No Way

3 Should your sense of delicadeza prevent you from employing lies and manufacturing diversionary tactics to befuddle the issue, even as one’s hands have been caught in the proverbial cookie jar?

__Agree __No Way

3. Will you practice delicadeza by declining a position or returning an award which your recognized peers think you do not deserve?

__Agree __No Way

What your test scores say:

If you answered No Way in at least one of the questions, please check the mirror. We have our moments of weakness. There may still be time to prevent an outbreak.

If you answered No way in more than one but less than three of the questions, its time to check if you still have real friends.

If you answered No Way in all of the 4 questions, we know who you are. Just in case you haven’t noticed: Ang kakapal ng mga mukha niyo. May I suggest you get a dermabrating foot spa on your calloused faces.

First Reading

They think it's a comedy.


It's the first reading of "Isang Araw sa Karnabal" a one-act play I wrote in time for the Writers' Bloc Virgin Labfest V.

There is always discoveries in these readings. When I write the script, I often have strong ideas on how the scene is going to be played. In the reading, the playwright is often amazed that there is more to what he wrote than he thought.

It helps that I have great actors-- Skyz Labastilla and Paolo O'Hara. And a very skilled director, Chris Millado. If you come to the shows (June 27 and 30 at 8pm; June 27 and July 1 at 3pm, at the Huseng Batute Theatre) we promise to share with you an intimate story about a young and confused couple dealing with desaparecidos in their lives.